


"Do you want to be a hero, Tommy?"

by caspercadaver



Category: Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Big Brother Technoblade, Bittersweet Ending, Burns, But Wilbur Does Show Up, Dadza, Dave | Technoblade and Wilbur Soot and TommyInnit are Siblings, Exiled Tommyinnit, Flashbacks, Gen, God! Philza, God! Technoblade, Heavy Angst, Hurt No Comfort, Hypothermia, NO Ghostbur, Older Sibling Technoblade, Older Sibling Wilbur Soot, References to Ancient Greek Religion & Lore, Sadza, So Thats Why He Has Tags, TechnoRegret, TommyInnit-centric, Wilbur Didn't Come Back As A Ghost, author is sad so he's making it everyone else's problem, i will make these two tags if i have to do it myself so help me god, vent fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-05
Updated: 2021-01-20
Packaged: 2021-03-10 07:14:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27846682
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/caspercadaver/pseuds/caspercadaver
Summary: ["𝘓𝘦𝘵 𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘺, 𝘛𝘰𝘮𝘮𝘺. 𝘈 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘺 𝘰𝘧 𝘢 𝘮𝘢𝘯 𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘴𝘦𝘶𝘴."]Tommy wasn't so much a Theseus as he was an Icarus. Or, more accurately, the lesser known and far less embellished Phaethon. Who tested and tested his limits until he crashed and burned in the inferno that was the sun. Who, above all else, wanted to prove himself. Whose siblings stood by his final resting place for all of eternity.Or; Tommy gets thrown out, burned, and drove out into a frozen wasteland.{Now complete with a bonus, if a bit late, happy ending where no one dies}
Relationships: Dave | Technoblade & TommyInnit, Toby Smith | Tubbo & TommyInnit, TommyInnit & Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit
Comments: 59
Kudos: 809
Collections: Completed stories I've read





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The December 2nd Streams were making me upset so I'm making that everyone else's problem. IMPORTANT: by god, I mean immortal and by immortal I mean their code is all messed up. Everyone gets three deaths, but there are some people that just straight up don't have a limit, like Techno and Philza. If you want to see actual God! SBI check out my fic thus always to tyrants.
> 
> hope you like the short vent fic, guys!
> 
> content warnings for: major character death, burns, hypothermia, technical child death (tommy is 16 in this fic), if i need to add anything extra please comment it.

_[𝙄𝙣 𝙬𝙝𝙞𝙘𝙝 𝙏𝙤𝙢𝙢𝙮 𝙞𝙨 𝙚𝙭𝙞𝙡𝙚𝙙 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙏𝙝𝙚𝙨𝙚𝙪𝙨, 𝙗𝙪𝙧𝙣𝙨 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙋𝙝𝙖𝙚𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙣, 𝙗𝙪𝙩 𝙞𝙨 𝙧𝙚𝙢𝙚𝙢𝙗𝙚𝙧𝙚𝙙 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙄𝙘𝙖𝙧𝙪𝙨.]_

_this is how it feels to take a fall  
icarus is flying towards an early grave_

* * *

Selfish, Tubbo had called him. Now, Tommy wasn't exactly one to wear his heart on his sleeve, he couldn't afford to when two thirds of the only family he ever knew were immortal. Techno and Philza already had enough on their plates, they didn't need some mortal piling more onto it. And Wilbur vocalised his sadness through music, it didn't take a genius to know that his brother was upset most of the time. When he had finally, _finally,_ stopped singing about the freezing cold or rain thundering on windows, he was flung head first into revolution and no one had time for his fumbled explanation of 'how his bones didn't fit right' or the reason why he was loud all the time was because he was too large for his already lanky body and he needed to _get. It. Out._ The point was, most people didn't know what he was feeling, despite him often vocalising his thoughts.

Emphasis on the most. He thought that finally, someone did, when he sacrificed his discs again and again and Tubbo was the only one to held him as he cried. The only person he cried in front of, besides Philza. But sure, maybe he was being a little selfish. But after all the shit he had been through, didn't he reserve the right to be a little selfish? Hadn't he put L'manberg's needs before his own countless times? He had died. _Twice_. For this country. Only for Dream to put obsidian walls tightly around the capital of ~~his~~ this country. Only for Dream to say he would build it taller if Tommy wasn't thrown out in three days. Only for Dream to tell them all that while they were independent, they were never going to be free. He was on his last life. One last attempt to make things right. The question remained if he wanted to. 

It wasn't the first time that Tommy had questioned what was going on in Wilbur's head, during his deterioration. But it was the first that he'd question whether or not he was right. Likewise with his other older brother, Technoblade. Destruction and anarchy, hand in hand. Tommy, Tommy didn't feel like he fit in with his brothers, not truly. Those two could cope with peace, or at least know when not to fuck it all up. All he knew was war, to fight and claw his way to success, to freedom, to something _stable_ but now that he had it, he had no clue what to do. So he burned a little bit of roof, so what? It's not like George couldn't just-

Stop. He needed to stop disregarding possible consequences, because that was what got him tossed out in the first place, second place, there probably wouldn't be a third place if he didn't get out of the freezing tundra anytime soon. 

Tucking both hands and forearms under his shirt, he gasped out a broken, " _fuck."_ as he brushed against the fresh burn left by a _gods be damned_ flaming fucking arrow. The head skimmed his right side, only leaving a shallow cut that bled sluggishly in its wake, but given the actual flames, there was a whole lot of burn left behind. But it was warm and that stopped his fingers from locking up. Looking around, he tried his best to spot a cave, hell even a tree he could take shelter under. Nothing. The blizzard was leaving him blind, stumbling senselessly in the snow.

He was still shivering though. That was good. No matter how he hissed as his body jerked him this way and that in minute gestures, that was good. Because it proved he still had the body heat and energy to move. He remembered this. Also good, because as hypothermia took ahold of you, your thoughts get more incoherent. Techno had taught him such, years ago, when their family was whole and not shattered, before him and Wilbur were told that their brother and father had so many more lives than they did.

Technoblade had taught him many things, Tommy realises as he stumbles through the snow, trying to control his jerky movements. 

From the mundane to life lessons that he refused to take to heart. Like how to hold his sword properly, how to maintain his stance and how to stay on the offensive. Or that no matter how close you are to someone, they'll be fine with burning all you've worked for into the fucking ground. Philza taught him how to care, Wilbur taught him how to preform. Technoblade taught him how to survive. Technoblade taught him violence, death, chaos and everything bad one could ever think of. And Tommy can't say if that was a good thing or a bad thing. 

  
  
Well, he couldn't say anything at all, because his lips were trembling too much to say anything and tears were pouring out of his eyes at full strength. His fingers were slow and stiff from where he clutched at his boiling burn to remind him that he _is_ alive and he _will_ get through this. Loss of fine motor control, _shit, fuck, bitch-_

_All of this could have been avoided if you weren't so fucking selfish, Tommy-_

No. No, he had _earned_ his fucking _right_ to be selfish after everything he'd been through. Was it so bad that he wanted to put something other than the fucking 'Democratic Union' of L'manberg before something he genuinely cared about? It was so, so painfully easy to get angry at everything and watch the whole world burn. But that wouldn't do anything that hadn't already been done by his brothers. He would run away, start a peaceful life and live for his own sake. Maybe Ranboo could join, End, he'd even be glad if Fundy joined him. Gods above and below he was so tired.

Tired of what specifically, he didn't know. Tired of being left alone? Tired of being abandoned? Tired of growing up in war and conflict- no, no, no wait he was just getting exhausted. And falling.

His arms were too heavy to properly support him, or even move out of their careful guard around his stomach so he just laid there. Tommy was so, so cold. His lips were probably blue and his mind didn't even offer up the proper word for it ("Cyanosis, Toms," a deep yet fond monotone voice echoed in the far depths of his childhood memory. "It's really disgusting, here, let me show you a picture-"). 

Funny, he thought he'd go out screaming, in the midst of a wild battlefield, blood in the soil, dying gasps and the stench of ozone in the air. It was too quiet, here.

Tommy stopped shivering, used all of his remaining strength to curl up into a ball and his eyes slid shut. In another universe, a hybrid god in a heavy cloak could have found him, brought him back from the brink of death.

In this one, he dies within the hour. 

* * *

TommyInnit died with a burn in his stomach, a gash in his side and two additional burn scars on his back that he didn't notice in his panicked state of mind. TommyInnit died with frozen tears on his cheeks, alone, and quiet. No one ever found his body. Wilbur Soot died with his own sword in his stomach, a relieved grin on his face and blood in his mouth. His body was buried on a hill overlooking ~~his~~ the country.

That isn't what the legends say, though. Not the ones two hurting men spread across the world in their maddening grief. These myths do not end happily, but they are not tragedies, a far cry from the true ending.

Legends weave a tale of two brothers waging war on a tyrant, unjust and cruel. Who formed a country and then liberated it when it fell into tyranny's coiling grasp once more. The elder dying with his nation when the old ruler of his land blew it up. The younger fled far, far away, ready to regroup with his allies once they freed themself from the thumb of treachery once more. Or, thats how the story goes.

The citizens of L'manberg did not complain, did not dispute these events. They all knew that those with corrupted code were unstable, susceptible to causing mass destruction if they were pushed over the edge. 

Two brothers sit on a hill overlooking the ruins of a once-great country, the pain in their eyes dulled from years of exposure to their reality.

"Hey Wil," the blond piped up, lips blue and fingers stiff as he fiddled with a ratty bandana covered with frost. "Do you reckon they'll ever find my body?"

"Dunno," the man in the yellow sweater shrugged, looking over at his living family as they sat by his grave. "Bet Tech's beating himself up about it, though. Human GPS my ass, not even human." 

A bark of laughter escaped the younger boy, icy tears still streaming down his face, "Betcha Tubbo is still looking though, old man never knows when to quit," his smile tightened as he saw his now adult best friend scribbling plans in a notebook. "Clingy bitch." 


	2. take this burden away from me (and bury it before it buries me)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [TUBBO CENTRIC]  
> I promised a happy ending and trust me, you will get it, but this is Not It. A couple commenters expressed interest in a 'people find Tommy's body chapter' and since that'll take up less time I'm doing that one first (hopefully this'll only be 500 words or less I'm writing this before the rest of the chapter). It covers what happened to L'manberg after Tommy's exile and, well, people finding his body. 
> 
> I am taking... Liberties when it comes to decomposition rates and what bodies look like after being frozen (looking at you, Ötzi) so instead i've skeletonised him because I really do not want to describe in depth one of the more disgusting ways bodies can decompose while I'm eating chicken strips. If you're like above fourteen google it on incognito if you want, you'll see what I'm talking about.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CONTENT WARNINGS: Grief, discovering of a body, description of a skeleton (guess who?), if i need to add more just comment.

Tubbo's hands were shaking violently, visible even though he dug them into his trouser pockets. Tears streamed like rivers down his still-too-chubby cheeks, but he paid them no attention, eyes firmly fixed on his best friend's retreating figure. Firm, despite how the rest of him shook.

_Ex best friend,_ a voice in his mind reminds him, sounding so similar to his old boss that it nearly made him wince. _But you betrayed him too, didn't you? What was all that about staying together, you and him to the end, you being the only one he could really trust, huh? Guess he fucked that up too, just like he fucks everything up, just like **you** are messing things up this time._

What was that, what he had said to Tommy before he left ( _before you made him leave)_? 'If I can't be the next JSchlatt, you can't become the next Wilbur.' 

He should start checking around for explosives, then, because he had done what Schlatt did barely a month ago and if everything was coming full cycle then he should expect ~~his~~ their nation to go up in flame again. Shaking his head, Tubbo looked into the distance where Tommy had just disappeared to and clenched his jaw. That wasn't fair to Tommy, he just wasn't used to peacetime yet. If Dream hadn't thrown a fit like a child he wasn't, then maybe he ~~they~~ would have time to heal and get used to a time without conflict. A voice that sounded like Niki's whispered to him _you should have been able to be a kid, too. This nation isn't yours to fix._ Sometimes it didn't feel like L'manberg was his at all. 

Tubbo gasped a shuddering breath as he felt a slight weight on his shoulder, threw one last glance at the direction his ex best friend left in, and allowed Quackity to steer him away. 

Turning his back to Tommy felt dismissive, like throwing away something- some _one_ that he really should not have. He couldn't tell if it was paranoia for the blond boy or for his dozen citizens. 

Turning his back away from his nation felt like accepting a cold meal from someone who only cared that he didn't starve or cause a riot. 

"L'manberg can be independent, but L'manberg can't be _free."_ Had he just traded Tommy away for nothing?

_Was it worth it? Was the fake freedom of this tiny nation worth abandoning his first friend?_

* * *

It wasn't worth it. A few years after Tommy left- was exiled, come on, call it what it was- L'manberg was on the brink of collapse again. Tubbo hadn't even had a chance to hold another election before they were plunged into wartime. He can't tell, as he pours over casualty report after casualty report, if this disaster was because of Tommy's absence or in spite of it. The black walls were torn down, sure, but they were losing land and allies fast. The Badlands faction had pulled support a few months ago because of dwindling resources and also probably because of Tommy's disappearance. Awesamdude had offered Tommy a place to run and when the boy had entirely dropped off the map, the man had grown worried. He was probably putting a lot into searching for him, something Tubbo would be doing if not for the fact that his nation was starving. 

Ranboo became vice-president after Tommy was exiled. A half-hearted apology for him not being able to run for president in the chaos. The half-enderman was a delight to be around, a fresh face surrounded by the old scars of L'manberg. He was genuinely passive, a calm and clear mind that truly helped their country, not littered with old wounds from old wars they kept fighting, even after multiple declarations of peace. The nearly adult man was new, End even innocent to this specific conflict.

That was why when he saw his vice sprinting up the path with a panicked, terrified and _heartbroken_ look in his red-green eyes he didn't hesitate to follow the spluttered plead to "follow, quickly." 

The man brought him to the stables, urging him to pick a fast horse and brace himself for the cold. Several layers and a scarf added onto his suit later, Ranboo dragged him out into the wilderness, into a seemingly never-ending snowstorm. It took a few hours to find the tall stone that the taller boy was hellbent on him seeing, which he could see was recently placed by the thin layer of snow dusting the surface. 

Tying the horses to a nearby tree, Tubbo was quickly dragged over to the disturbed snow and Ranboo only had to brush the snow away for a few seconds before he could see why he was so panicked.

A green bandana, beige trousers, _no shoes_ , _a redandwhiteshirt-_

A skeleton, clutching at it's arms in a desperate attempt to warm itself.

Tubbo promptly turned to the side and threw up, tears in his eyes and a broken scream halfway out of his throat that he choked on.

_It wasn't worth it._

* * *

Technoblade hadn't needed to destroy L'manberg a second time. Tubbo had evacuated every citizen and let the grieving family release their anger upon the empty nation, knowing that if he didn't someone would lose a life instead.

  
_(It would have been his, if he hadn't acted first. He knew this like he knew his and Tommy's bench was a safe space. He knew this like he knew the sky was blue, or that Dream should **never** be trusted.)_

There wasn't much left to destroy, anyway. Riddled with explosion holes, overrun by enemies and mobs alike, ramshackle huts instead of proper houses. Never enough time to rebuild, never enough time in general. 

They buried Tommy next to Wilbur and left, the crackle of fire and wails of heartbreak ( _they were never that emotional, were they?_ ) a funeral march for a broken country.

A people displaced, a family shattered, a tragic ending to a tragic legend. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey!! if you enjoyed this, please leave a kudos or a comment if you haven't. Sorry for not making an update sooner, I had my drama devised piece this week (40% of my overall end grade) and GCSEs in general are killing me. My mock exams are on the eleventh of January! Yay.....
> 
> this was 983 words on my writing application. i said this would be 500 words. pian.
> 
> not sure i really like how this one turned out though, tbh, i was working on this on and off for like a week :/
> 
> \- casper x


	3. anemoia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> anemoia- n. "a persistent, often wistful or melancholy desire; a longing for a time you've never known."
> 
> or:
> 
> what could have been, might have been, if Technoblade had found his youngest brother before it was way too late.
> 
> also this was started before Tommy was exiled way back when so none of this is canon compliant.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aaaaaaaaaaaa okay im so sorry that this took so long, but im an exam student of the gcse variety and i have no clue if we're doing exams or not and i haven't taken my antidepressants in weeks because i ran out (and i'm becoming a minecraft youtuber in case i fail but thats not really the issue here). i hope the length of the chapter (longest in this fic) helps make up for the late update.
> 
> TW: grief, mild description of a burn injury, mildly graphic description of medical processes and mildly graphic description of the undead. 
> 
> also forgive me but i have no idea how to heal injuries.

If Technoblade had decided to forgo gathering more firewood that night, his brother would have died. Compacted under the snow and become fertilizer, probably. But he did, and Tommy wouldn't pass peacefully into the night like he would have hated. Or he wouldn't, if Techno could bring himself to _move_.

There were very few moments in the piglin hybrid's life that he submitted into the freeze response instead of the fight one. The most recent was when he saw Wilbur for the last time, eyes vacant and a soft smile on his lips as he slumped into their father's arms for the last time. Echoing voices snapped him out of it then, and were happy to do so now.

_HELPHIM HELPHIM HELP HIM_

🦀 _TOMMY IS GONE?_ 🦀

_NOW IS NOT THE TIME TO BE A COWARD, BLADE_

_E_

_TECHNOFAIL LOSERBLADE_

_DADZA IS GOING TO BE SO MAD IF YOU DONT MOVE_

_ICECUBEINNIT WHAT WILL HE DO?_

Shoving the wood into his pack, he shrugged the heavy cloak from his shoulders and hauled his brother's body ( _body, not corpse. Not tonight)_ into his arms like his own life depended on it. Which it would, if Philza found out that Tommy had died on his watch. Now being weighed down by an additional person's body, the trek back up to his cabin was painfully slow. 

In reality, Technoblade knew he wasn't going too slowly, but his still panicking brain had gone into 'hindbrain mode' and all he could hear was an endless stream of worried voices, chat, and the fear of his family being hurt. Despite how Tommy had betrayed him ( _or did you betray him? Were your brothers not clear on their plans to begin with, too?),_ he was still family and he couldn't just abandon him in the snow. 

Well, it was entirely in his capability to do so but Techno had a feeling if he tried to release his hold his arms just wouldn't respond.

A stray shambled past him mindlessly, its bones creaking as it tried to notch a slowness arrow onto the cracked wooden bow it held limply in its hands, grey-blue tattered and torn rags the only remnants of its alive days. He repressed a shiver and pressed on as quickly as his legs and the snow around would allow him. Tommy couldn't afford being slowed down, his clothes were damp with blood and snowmelt. His hypothermic brother would die if he didn't get out of them soon, as much as the thought made him cringe. Tommy's life was on the line, he could be as awkward as he liked when his brother wasn't in danger of freezing to death.

Flinging his door open and slamming it shut again with a well aimed kick to the edge, he dumped the blond still wrapped in his cape on the kitchen counter. While it wasn't the most comfortable spot, but Techno needed to check him for any other wounds he may have accumulated in his 'daring escape'. Not that he pink-haired hybrid had known what was going on except for a day's heads up from their father that Tommy was to be exiled, but knowing his brother the boy would have gone out with a bang. _No, not bang, bad phrase to use._

A nearby chest had a change of his own clothes, which would never fit his gangly brother, but the were clean and dry and better than the sopping, worn mess he currently wore. Grimacing as he carefully undressed and redressed the blond, he tried to simultaneously look for wounds and avert his gaze completely. Techno was just thankful the boy was unconscious for it. Hopefully Tommy would be too out of it ~~if~~ when he woke up to realise that he had been changed, otherwise he'd never hear the end of it. 

Luckily, the only injuries he could spot was some bruises and light scrapes, a somewhat deep cut on his side ( _arrow, just skimmed the surface, cauterised, chat supplied. They had been helping him through the process, unusually quiet and actually useful)_ and the particularly nasty second degree burn that accompanied it. There was no blood, so all that needed to be dealt with was the burn. While Techno would rather avoid introducing water to a victim of hypothermia so soon after they started shivering again- and that was a relief, as the colour returned to his lips- he had no choice. The burn had to be dealt with and promptly so.

Grabbing an armful of blankets from the sofa, he returned to the shivering form on the polished basalt* countertop. If Techno hadn't bore witness to the slightly visible ribs and injuries that littered his brothers body, he could be comparable to a doll, swimming in the frilly white shirt and furred trousers that made him look sort of like an old-fashioned** schoolboy. The though alone nearly made him snort with a sort of hysterical laughter. Nearly. Falling into hysterics would just be pathetic to someone of his reputation.

Placing a pillow by the blond's side, he carefully rolled him over onto his front for better access to the burn. Running it under cool water was a no-go, so he'd have to go with a compress. Dampening and wringing out a clean cloth used to dry the dishes, he laid the fabric over the burn to relieve his brother's pain. By the slow release of tension from his shaking body, it seemed to work. If only a little. 

Techno's eyes were drawn to the aloe vera plant by the window (house warming gift from Phil) and the honey jars sat next to it. He could use those later, when the hypothermia wasn't so much of an issue. As gently as he could as to not jostle his wounds, Techno lifted the boy up and nestled him into a cocoon of blankets. Not for the first time that evening, he was glad that his 'patient' hadn't awoken. Despite it not being such a good sign. It wouldn't do Tommy well to wake up while being 'babied' as he would probably put it and get himself hurt even worse. 

Settling best he could into the armchair next to the fireplace, he tossed some wood from his pack into the fire to keep the living room warm. He sighed and mentally prepared himself for a night of replacing wet cloth and no sleep. 

* * *

Tommy was surprised to wake up warm, snuggled in an uncountable amount of blankets. Scratch that, Tommy was surprised to wake up _at all._ When he passed out in the snow, he didn't think he would be opening his eyes again. Other sensations came back to him slowly, but he still didn't open his eyes. The clothes weren't his, he was sure of it, they were much too weather appropriate and fur-lined. And comfortable. There was a tight sensation near his ribs, and as he shifted slightly to touch it he realised with a jolt that they were bandaged. Then smell, the sharp scent of ginger was the most defined, along with the familiar odour of burning wood. Then-

A low humming, distracted and somewhat far off, accompanied by the crackling of wood on a fireplace. He knew that voice like he knew his own, like he knew Wilbur's. Like he knew the rest of him family's voices.

That was Techno.

Had... Had his oldest brother _actually_ rescued him? Nursed him back to health like he was a fucking helpless animal? A large part of Tommy, the hurt and lashing out side wanted to yell that his brother hadn't shown anyone mercy ever, but that wasn't true. And while he was known for lying to both others and himself, that lie wasn't convincing in the slightest. When they were kids (he was still a kid, a mournful part of him cried out) Techno would accidentally hurt animals in his bloodlust and would run back to Phil crying and begging the man to save it. Tommy would have laughed if that side of Techno hadn't likely been the one to save his life.

He still didn't dare to open his eyes. Maybe if he just kept them closed he could go back to sleep and it would all just be a terrible, terrible dream and he would wake back up in L'manberg, as it was before the election. Maybe if he kept his eyes shut Techno would just not approach him. Both of them hated confrontation. Maybe it would work? 

A nudge on his shoulder. The humming had gotten closer and stopped, the ginger tang in the air had followed. Of course he wouldn't.

Tommy debated the pros and cons of just turning over and going back to sleep but he knew Techno, he would drag him off of the sofa, injured or not. 

Cracking his eyes open, gummy with sleep he yawned, testing his tongue and cringing back at the tacky feeling in his mouth. This was why he didn't sleep much (one of the reasons why he didn't sleep much).

Noting the man wasn't going to speak first, he reluctantly pulled an arm out of the blanket fortress, "'Ow do, big man?"

A grumble, something like 'of course he says that', but Tommy couldn't be bothered to strain his ears. Techno straightened up, placing the teapot (only one mug, he realised) on the coffee table.

"I believe I should be asking you that question, Tommy."

"That isn't an answer," He frowned. "Answer the question."

"I'm doing good, I'm doing good," A sharp glance and the hybrid settles into the arm chair next to the sofa but in Tommy's line of sight. "You?"

"I," Putting a lot of faith in the false bravado in his voice, he paused for effect. "Am doing great! Thank you, thank you for asking."

"Hm," Techno poured liquid into the mug, steaming as he did so. "Sure you are, that explains perfectly," Oh no, Tommy knew this tone of voice. "Why you were outside freezing to death in the snow with nasty burn on your side." Techno lecture. Best to stop him before he really gets going.

"In my defence," Tommy tried his best to raise his arms in surrender, but the duvets were exceptionally heavy and he was still exhausted. "That wasn't my plan. I was trying to find shelter when the, uh-" he racked his brain for the word. "Cyanosis set in. Total mistake, sorry for taking up your space but I'll be going now-" Trying to pull himself upright, he was pushed right back against the arm of the sofa. How did the man get there so quickly? Tommy wasn't sure he'd even seen him move.

"Cyanosis, huh? Guess you listened to my lessons after all," It was quiet, probably not meant to be heard but because of proximity he did anyway. "Anyway, that doesn't excuse your reckless behaviour-"

A sneeze. Another sneeze.

"...Sorry, Techno. Please, please, go on about how I could have possibly saved myself in the freezing tundra being chased by fucking Dream of all people with nothing to my goddamn name; please, tell me how I could have done better next time." 

"You were being chased by Dream?"

"I'm telling you off, man, thats not the part you should be focusing on here. But, yeah. He stopped as soon as I found snow. Thought it was a good thing at first, but," he shrugged, not meeting his brother's eyes. "Guess he thought I'd just die out here and his job would be finished or something."

Techno sighed and lifted him up slightly by hooking his hands under his armpits, to which Tommy let out an irritated squawk. He was maneuvered into a sitting position, helped by the back of the sofa. A mug of warm, ginger tea was placed gently, gently into his hands with a subdued, "Drink this."

Tommy shrugged but did, for once, what he was told. He remembered this tea from his childhood, Phil making it when they were out in the snow for too long. Something about blood-circulation and warming the body, or whatever. The taller man came back not long later, Tommy only a third of the way into his beverage, with a jar of honey under one arm and a plant pot in one hand. 

When Tommy shot him a confused look, he only sighed again and placed both seemingly unrelated items on the table. 

"Aloe vera," he gestured to the plant, "Is effective with first to second degree burns, its anti-inflammatory..." He trails off as he watches Tommy reach out and touch the plant. 

"Leaf," Tommy nodded sagely. 

"... Alright, anyway," he picks up the honey jar and unscrews the lid with ease. "Honey can help heal minor burns when applied in certain areas. It is also anti-inflammatory and is a natural antibacterial and antifungal."

"Cool."

"Cool."

"..."

"Tommy, what I'm saying is you need to get out of the blankets so I can treat your wounds."

"Not a fucking chance, big man. I'm comfy, I'm like- the Great Wall of China or something, you aren't moving me unless I want you too."

"I don't think the Great Wall of China could move anywhere even if it wanted to."

"You can do anything you want to, if you put your mind to it."

"Including making you get up so I can re-do you bandages?"

"No way- _waitwaitwaitTechno we can talk about this!"_

"What was that you said about being immovable?"

"... Fuck you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *fun fact, materials with high energy densities retain more heat! This isn't just beneficial for Tommy, but makes sense for Techno because he lives in the snow. Basalt was the material with the highest energy density i could find that has a direct match to Minecraft after like a minute of research. 
> 
> ** i dont know if the victorian era exists in dream smp canon but thats what i mean by old fashioned, here.
> 
> also i did write this in like one night and got distracted for a few hours because i was dragged onto my smp to help build a potato farm. next we're building a fighting ring.
> 
> if you liked this, please drop a comment and a kudos they are so very much appreciated and i /p love you all!!
> 
> \- casper xxx


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